


I do not want to lose her

by Madita1908



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: 2x07, Don't give up on them, Episode Related, F/M, I had to write this, My First Fanfic, Not Really Character Death, Reade saves her, Tasha's danger, not really love, rapata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-10-26 08:17:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10783017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madita1908/pseuds/Madita1908
Summary: "Her chest rose more and more heavily and her breathing sounded tormented every time, while Kamal and I were helpless." -A look at Reade's thoughts and feel, while Season 2x07 and an alternative end.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello  
> Welcome to my first story in this fandom and archives and in English!  
> A special thanks to Zaffie, who has read this fanfic for me beta! Without her you would not read that! Many Thanks!  
> I hope you like the idea, and the light Rapata allusion! If you find any mistakes, please tell me!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sets during Ep 07 of season to.

**I do not want to lose her **

**Reades POV:**

I clasped my gun harder when I reached the C1 Administrators' Office with Nas. Step by step we approached the office where Tasha, my colleague and best friend, and was probably already dying. Again and again I heard her own words in my mind: _"... injected me with a neurotoxin, that will kill me slowly..."_ My guts contracted with the thought finding her lifeless. Tasha had told us that the Akkadier had left three ampoules there - one ampoule to save her and two more to end her life. Only the Akkadier, who was as quick as a ninja, knew which vial was the right one, and I would have preferred to ask the man myself which vial was right. The idea of choosing the wrong one and killing Tasha sent a cold shiver down my spine. Before the Akkadier had got her, I had been rude to her, which I regretted now, because she might die.

We reached the office. It was dark, and all I could see was a person sitting in a chair. The person looked like she were asleep. I entered the office first and said, “Zapata?” and I realized that the person on the chair was really my partner. I ran towards her, stuck my gun in the holster.  
She didn't look good, tied up with cables to the office chair. Zapata had wounds on her face, was sweaty and she did not really seem to be conscious. "Zapata!” I said, while I began to release her from the cables. Kamal did the same. When we had her untied, a breath escaped Tasha's lips that sounded as if she had an allergic shock that squeezed the air out of her lungs. I did not need to look long to think, I grabbed Tasha und around the upper part of her body and lifted her from the chair. She breathed more heavily when her upper body fell forward and strands of her dark hair fell into her face. My grip around her chest automatically tightened, while I took a small step to the right with her, just enough to slide down against the wall with her and to comfort her. I supported her head with one of my hands, but the other still rested on her upper body, so I could hear, but also feel, her clattering breaths. the panic of losing her began to rise in me.

Kamal watched me before she put a hand on her com to hear what was happening to the other members of our team. I hardly paid attention to Kamal because I was too busy with Tasha. I gently tapped her cheek with my free hand.  
"Tasha?" I said, unable to banish my concern from my voice. "Tasha!" I realized to my relief that she had opened her eyes. Tasha's eyes made the blood freeze in my veins. Her gaze was terrified and panicked. As Kamal turned to the ampoules, I tried to pacify Tasha with, "Stay with me, stay with me, Tasha!" Or rather to keep her awake, because I had the terrible feeling that she could not held her eyes open that much longer. Her chest rose more and more heavily and her breathing sounded tormented every time, while Kamal and I were helpless. I thought a thousand thoughts. Was Tasha still pissed? Would she forgive me for the things I had said to her? I had pushed her away, because I wanted to be sure that Tasha would be safe. I can handle myself, but I could not live with myself if something happened to Tasha. I had hurt her with what I said, I had seen it in her eyes, but now I couldn't tell her what I felt. Her brown eyes looked so helpless that I wanted to scream out of despair while her cold fingers twitched in my hand.  
_"How much pain is she in?"_ I thought worried while I was looking down into her sweaty face. _"Why is Weller taking so long?”_ I would like to kick this Akkadierer thoroughly in the ass, if I have had the chance to. Tasha was dying in my arms and the last thing I'd said to her had been cruel. My words had hurt her really. "I'm sorry, Tasha!" I mumbled under my breath, "Stay with me, please Tasha!"  
Her fingers were still twitching over my skin. Weak, but noticeable. At least she was still reacting! "It will be all right, Tasha!" I promised her quietly, but I said it more to myself than to her.  
Kamal looked at me and Tasha anxiously. To her this situation was also not cosy. Carefully she knelt down, and felt for the pulse of my friend.  
"Her pulse is getting weaker," she said, horrified, and straightened up again to take a closer look at the small ampoules. Tasha's breathing slowed and the whistling breath sounded. Her body twitched slightly. I gently pressed her carotid artery to check her pulse again before I roared "We're losing her!" as I patted her cheek again while her gaze slowly grew empty. Her breathing was getting quieter. My heart began to beat more violently. At that moment, Agent Kamal pressed a hand to her ear. She had received a message.  
_"Please let it be Weller or Jane. We need the antidote!"_ I prayed in thought, looking at the NSA agent. When she turned to face me, I already knew that there wasn’t good news.  
I could feel Tasha's jaw tremble as she tried desperately to get air. "Tasha stay with me, Tasha, stay with me!" I kept repeating, but Tasha's eyes no longer met my eyes. The twitch of her fingers did not stop. I looked desperately at Kamal, who was now forced to make a decision.  
"We have to pick a vial," Kamal finally said before turning back to the ampoules. I could see she was struggling to choose one. Finally, she turned to me again. "A 33 percent chance of living is better than a zero percent chance if we do nothing!"  
I knew she was right. Desperately, I looked down at Zapata, whose breath grew quieter and slower. Her dark eyes seemed to meet mine, and a thick lump formed in my throat. Tasha Zapata was not just a colleague and a friend for me! I had fallen in love with her, with quirks and all. But I cannot tell her that. Not now. I could feel how her chest lifted only sluggishly and lowered, and yet her fingers energetically twitched against the back of my hand. Wait a moment - twitched? My brain replied _"You idiot, she's trying to tell you something!"_ And I looked up at Kamal, who was reaching for one of the vials.

"Wait, wait!" I shouted, "Her fingers aren’t twitching! She’s tapping something!" I began to concentrate on the back of my hand. Tasha's finger pressed once briefly, once long and then again briefly. "Morse code!" I cried in my thoughts.  
Kamal turned around. "Is it a message? Is it Morse code?” she asked.  
After a few seconds, I finally knew what Tasha had been trying to tell me: the left ampoule was the antidote! "Left! She says the left!” I shouted, and saw the NSA agent grabbing the object. "Hold on, Tasha!" I muttered. I held my breath as Tasha tried to swallow, and her breathing finally stopped.

It felt like an eternity until Kamal Tasha gave the antidote in the neck My hand wandered to Tashas hip and I watched her attentively.  
Finally, Zapata drew in a desperate breath. Her head twitched slightly as she raised her hand as if to hold Kamal's wrist. But her hand sank slowly, and I took it gently into mine.  
"It’s working!" Kamal replied, relieved. "Her breathing is stabilizing!"  
I noticed how Tasha's breathing normalized slowly, and she closed her eyes for a moment while Kamal pulled out the ampoule. "She's coming back. She's gonna be fine," I heard Kamal say, but for me the only thing that was important was that Tasha was with me and looking at me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the first chapter!
> 
> Click on this link to see the cover of this work! :)  
> https://www.facebook.com/Madita1908/photos/a.1819163654999586.1073741836.1685713471677939/1819163714999580/?type=3&theater


	2. Part II

**Tasha POV:**

  
My vision was blurry as I slowly returned to myself. I squinted and coughed at the same time, feeling like an idiot. I tried to get into a sitting position, but I didn't make it.  
"Maybe we'll take off her vest so she can breathe better?" I heard Nas saying, and I looked in her direction. I tried to struggled into a sitting position. To my surprise, they helped me this time. "Careful, Zapata," Reade told me as he lay one of his hands on my back to support me. He opened the vest and pulled it away. I couldn’t feel a real difference; my breathing hadn’t calmed down yet. Every breath hurt.  
My senses were not quite there. I felt as if if I had drunk a whole bottle of whiskey and dropped into the East River. My head pounded, my eyes were heavy, and my lungs tried to get as much oxygen as possible. I wanted to say something, but all that left my mouth was an awful cough. Great.  
"Can you get up, Tasha?" Reade wanted to know and I nodded. But I wasn’t sure if I could really get up. He stood up before he held out his hands to me. As he pulled me up, I felt even more dazed than before.  
"Slowly. You okay?" Nas asked and came to me and Reade. "We should take her to the infirmary. The Akkadier is dead, it’s safe."  
"I'm much better," I murmured, but with a terrible, rough voice. Still, better than none.  
"You don’t look good, Zapata."  
" Just a little headache ... I feel really good, Kamal."  
"Tasha. You're panting and your breath just stopped. At least go to the infirmary. Just to be sure," Reade told me. One of his hands still lay on my back and supported me as I swayed when I took a step forward. He looked really worried.

When I had been under the influence of the neurotoxin, my vision and my hearing had been blurred. I didn’t know exactly what he had said to me, but it had been something that had made me type Morse code on his hands. I tried to remember his words, but it only made my head hurt. Reade seemed to notice that I wasn't able to walk and, without any protest, he lifted me up and went with me to the sickbay.

 

* * *

  
It had become cooler when I left the police department. I had stolen the knife - the knife I had seen a while ago with Ed's friend. The consequences were clear to me, but I had made it for Ed, even if he didn’t want it.  
_“I thought if I pushed you away, you would stop trying to help me,”_ he had told me a few hours ago, but he should have known better, because that would only drive me even more. You didn’t get rid of me so quickly. After all, we had reconciled before I went to the police station. The headaches had not stopped, despite the painkillers. The loud traffic of the street thundering in my ears, all the lights of the city aching in my eyes. Exhausted by my surroundings, I leaned against the traffic lights and waited. My right hand was slowly numb. The traffic light turned green, and I crossed the road, almost at the other side, when I suddenly felt dizzy, moments later I collapsed. The last thing I saw was the bright spotlight of a car before everything went black.

**READE POV:**

_"Am I speaking to Mister Edgar Reade?"_  
"Yes, you are. Who am I talking to, please?" I mumbled into the phone. I had nearly been asleep when my cell phone had begun to ring.  
_"Oh, excuse me! This is Aileen from Grace Central Hospital,"_ the female voice answered, _"It's about a Miss Natasha Zapata ... "_  
I didn’t let the woman say anything else. Why was the GCH call? Why was Tasha in the hospital? "What about Tasha, is she okay?" My voice got louder with excitement.  
_"She has been in an accident, sir,"_ Aileen replied calmly, _"Your number is given as an emergency contact ..."_  
"I'll come." I hung up, dressed quickly. jogging pants, sweater and sneakers, and ran down to my car. I probably ignored a dozen traffic rules, narrowly avoided crashing the car myself, but I didn't care. It was about Tasha. _My_ Tasha, whom I could almost have lost _today_. The idea that I could have lost Tasha today made me shiver every time I thought about it. Tasha is like a little sister to me. She is even more to me, _if_ I'm honest. She is always there for me, listening to me and we spent a lot of time with each other beyond the work.

~

I ran through the foyer until I finally found the reception. I remained completely out of breath and stared at the lady behind the desk.  
"How can I help you, sir?" she asked me, quite bored.  
"Natasha Zapata. She was delivered here," I said, getting nervous.  
"Third floor, Room 215a," she said, still more bored.  
"Thank you," I murmured, before I went to the elevator.

Room 215a was right near the elevator. I was very relieved when I realized that. Internally I prepared myself for everything I could expect in this room: life-preserving machines connected to Tasha, or an unconscious Tasha or a Tasha who was awake and didn’t want to see me.  
Just as I reached for the door handle, the door was opened and a doctor and two nurses came out.  
"How is she?" I burst out.  
"And you are?" the doctor wanted to know in return.  
“Edgar Reade, I am her colleague! I was called as her emergency contact. How is Zapata? “  
"Ah. My name is Dr Smith," he said briefly, "and your co-worker is well given the circumstances. She collapsed on the street, and a car couldn’t stop in time," the doctor told me, "but she only has some bruises. She had good luck."  
"Can I see her?"  
Dr Smith nodded. "She's sleeping right now, and it'll probably take a while for her to wake up."  
I was thankful. Nothing worse had happened to her! "Thank you," I said, before I went to her room. Again, Tasha did not look very good. She was paler, and the injuries on her face stuck out like red paint on a white wall. "Tasha ..." I muttered, gently taking her hand. It hurt so much to see her so helpless, so vulnerable. I did not know what to tell her, so I said nothing, and sat down on a chair, not far from her bed until sleep took me, and I slept on the most uncomfortable chair in the world.

**Tasha POV:**

It was still dark when I woke up again. _"Where am I?",_ I wondered, trying to see anything in the dark. Next to me stood a vitals monitor, which constantly beeped. The smell was awful, and stabbed me in the nose. Hospital. How had I landed here? Then I heard a snoring, which I knew too well: Reade’s snoring.  
I tried to lift an arm to rub myself the sleep my eyes. My limbs felt heavy, I could not lift my arms, and even after another attempt I had not managed to raise my arm to my head. Why couldn’t I feel my body anymore? _"Quiet, Tasha. You have no reason to worry,"_ I said to myself in thought.  
"Reade!" I mumbled, my mouth was dry. His name came quietly over my lips, so he probably did not hear it. "Reade!" I tried once more, this time with a louder voice. Again, he didn’t respond. Great.  
I started to panic. My body would not move, my panic grew once again. This was one of my personal nightmares! "Reade?!" I yelled almost as my breaths came faster, and stuck in my throat, this time Reade finally responded and jumped out of his sleep.

"Tasha?" His voice appeared far away. Breathing seemed to be more and more difficult, and I frightened myself when the vitals monitor gave an alarm – a long, shrill peep. Deafening. I suddenly felt his hand on my arm. Instead of comforting me, the touch panicked me further and I began to fight against Reade, striking wildly around me.  
I noticed the door opening. Voices were flooding my mind, but I couldn’t hear them clearly. Someone tried to put something over my face before everything around me blurred. Finally, I lost consciousness again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Final Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go!  
> It's the last chapter of this story.  
> Thanks for all the comments and kuddos!  
> A special thanks to Zaffie. Without her, you wouldn't read this story!  
> Thank you so much for your help!

It was a terrible feeling, seeing how her eyes rolled inwards, before they shut.  
This was the second worst thing of the day. It felt wrong to just stand in the corner, unable to do anything.  
"I don’t know what happened," I told Dr Smith, after he had flipped up the sides of Tasha's bed. "I woke up, and she was breathing hard." My hand was rubbing the back of my head, as if I had to apologize for something I did incorrectly.  
Dr Smith nodded absently, as he looked through her file. "We found remnants of a nerve block in her circulatory system. At the moment we assume, that this poison has led to the collapse and also to the short-term paralysis," the doctor replied without looking up, "And that stiffness was probably what triggered the previous panic attack. Had Ms Zapata panic attacks in the past? Do you know anything about it, Mr Reade?"  
"I don’t think so, Doc. How long will she be asleep?" I asked. Why should I know, if Zapata had previous panic attacks? Tasha didn’t even tell me if she had a flu or something. She would always come to work, even if she was sick. I approached the bed and looked down at Tasha, who looked even paler than a few minutes ago. She looked like a corpse in some way. All the bruises on her face looked even more terrible. I gently stroked a few strands of her hair out of her face, before I saw two straps under the covers: "Why is she tied up?" I wanted to know.  
"To stabilize her and prevent a new panic attack," the doctor said, but it was all Greek to me.  
"This is counterproductive! You said, that the fact that she couldn’t move, started the panic attack! She’ll have another one, because she’s tied up! Release these straps now!” I was angry.  
"I'm sorry, but this is our way to prevent it. She will sleep for a while, but as soon as she wakes up, call a nurse. The straps will be then released." Then the doctor left the room and I was alone with Tasha. It broke my heart to see Tasha there. Helpless and weak. This wasn’t my Tasha! The Tasha I knew and loved was strong, cheeky and self-confident. She didn’t like to be patronised with pleasure or given orders – even when we were at odds, but she was also damn good in her job. She was my closest friend at the FBI, even if she was annoying me with her attempts of help. Hell, she’d got more problems than me! She was the one losing all her money, not me! By now, I felt like a bad friend – I wasn’t there for Tasha when she told us about her gambling. I wasn’t there when she needed my help most – but I was amazed how she fought every day for staying in line. I wondered, how she’d manged it, but she had always been there for me, and I didn’t say thank you. I just had been taking her kindness all the time, and never really returned it to her. This was the time, I could be there for her. If she wants it or not. 

The next few hours seemed like an eternity. Every now and then I ran to the coffee machine, took a coffee, went back to her room and just looked at her. Her breathing was quiet, sometimes I wondered if she was even still breathing. The clock on the wall showed me, that it was already half past six in the morning. Normally, I would be getting up from my bed. I would check my phone to see if Tasha was up too – for our morning jogging.  
After I had watched her for a while again, I decided, I could take a nap. But before I slouch down in my chair, I saw Tasha moving. She came back quite slowly, but almost immediately she began to fight against the straps. I could tell by the way she squeezed her eyes, that there were tears. And I was right. Shortly after she opened her beautiful eyes, I saw the first tears showing up. It made me sick to see the tears were already running down her cheeks, as I came closer to the bed.  
I didn’t like to see her like this. My mind was telling me, that she was afraid, because it was the second time that she was bound somewhere.  
Gingerly, I laid a hand on her shoulder, unsure how she would react. "Tasha," I began quietly, "you're safe!"  
Her movements stopped abruptly before she turned her head in my direction and looked at me. Looked at me with her angry tear-stained eyes.  
"What happened?" Was the first thing she wanted to know from me. Her dark eyes seemed to seek answers in my eyes - answers I had. For a moment, I parted from her and pulled my chair close to her bed.  
"You collapsed on the street. You were very lucky," I told her cautiously. " The doctor said, that the toxin was still in your system when you collapsed." I watched her again for a moment. She seemed to think hard before she tried to free herself again. "Why am I tied, Ed?" Her tone wasn’t bossy, as I expected it. She sounded confused.  
"When you woke up earlier, and you couldn’t move - a effect of the toxin – you’ve suffered a panic attack ..."  
She pulled at the straps again, that held her in her lying position. She didn’t say one word about the panic attack, but I saw that she was thinking about it. The look on her face seems to say _“Not again…”_ But before I could ask her about previous panic attacks, she spoke again:  
"Can you get rid of them? I don’t need these belts! You know I'm not dangerous or anything!" She asked me.  
I had to grin. Of course, this argument had to come. No, Tasha wasn’t dangerous. Not until you made her angry. If she’s angry, you better stay out of her way. That’s something I learned first about her. Then I started to solve the strap around her wrists, as I told her, "On some days, I have to disagree with that, you know?" I grinned cheekily at her. "Careful," I told her as she straightened her arms over her chest and scratched herself, "You could get your catheter out."  
Tasha rolled her eyes annoyed. "I won’t get it off, doc," she promised. 

**Tasha POV:**

I was glad Ed was here, but it was incredibly embarrassing, that he saw me like that. He had seen me _cry_ , and he would probably never make me forget it. I didn’t want to imagine what he thought of me. Damn, I was a FBI agent, and had been crying because I was tied up somewhere! My hands were still scraping over my arms, while Reade loosened the straps around my legs. My thoughts were somewhere else. I had another panic attack. Again. I’d thought, they had finally stopped.  
His hands briefly touched my legs and I jerked. Great, I also wore a hospital gown. Could this be even more embarrassing?  
"There were more injured than I ... well ...When I…", I wanted to know as he sat down in his chair.  
"No," he told me fast, and I was relieved, but my hands didn’t stop moving, and suddenly Reade laid a hand on my restless hands. I shivered.  
"They're all right," he told me, "the driver was just frightened. He's fine. For the next weeks he’ll take the subway, I think." Reade looked at me. There was something in his gaze I couldn’t read, but then he added: “You scared the shit out of me yesterday, Tasha.”  
I nodded. His warm hand felt good. They gave me a certain hold and calmed me down a little bit. “I’ll live, that’s important. I didn’t mean to scare you. Or upset you. When do I can leave the hospital?”  
"They want you to stay here a few more hours," Reade explained, “Then you'll come to my place for a pizza and a good cold beer," he continued, watching my expression.  
I groaned. Going home with Reade? Maybe this was the best option after all. Who knows how much of toxin is still in my system and what could happen the next time? It made me shiver again and I tried to cover it with teasing Reade about his pizza: "It would be better for you, if it’s a fresh pizza. If not, I will stay here voluntarily. I’m not going to eat your half-frozen pizza ever again! Don’t you remember last time?"  
Reade sigh. Yep, he remembered the last time. "This time it’s fresh, I promise. You can order it, if you want to. Than we are on the safe side that you’re not allergic to something and don’t vomit in my sink again. Besides, the Jets are playing tonight, so we can let it go quietly until then, and get drunk when they lose. Listen Tasha, I just want to make sure nothing more happened to you. That was enough trouble for a while."  
For the first time on this day, I grinned. It was sweet, that he wanted to take care over me. After all the shit I’ve done, he was still my friend. I couldn’t understand it. I still remembered his words, before the Akkadier got me, and every single time I remember his words, I feel tears in my eyes and a painful kick in my heart. His words had been as sharp as a sword. He was right, that I was risk addicted, but I never saw his life as something I could bet on. I never would do that. I'm glad he doesn’t know, what I'm doing for my risk-taking to keep them in check. He mustn’t know that I’m standing on the edge of the roof of my dwelling-house. Or that I try to stay under water as long as possible He would only worry unnecessarily. But now, that he’s here with me, I’m more than thankful, that I can tell him my friend.  
“You know I can take care of myself, I’m a big girl,” I joked finally, "I like the idea. Thank you for being here for me, Ed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> ♥


End file.
